First Contact
by JadziaVu
Summary: As tabooed and socially unacceptable as human-turian relationships may still be, the hidden truth in history actually dates these scandalous acts back as far as the First Contact Two enemies meet on the battlefield, driven by the flame of hate and the heat of passion, but their story lasts long beyond the end of the war, shaping the future as we know it (OC x OC)
1. Following Orders

The crew was dead. All of them, save the Alliance pilot who was now running for her life. Granted, her run was much more of a staggered hop, having twisted her ankle on the way out of the burning ship she had haphazardly landed after the miserably failed evasion tactics. No one in the galaxy could have blamed her for the fate of her crewmates, she really had done everything she could, and her skills at the helm were impressive enough to bring honor and pride to Alliance members for centuries. But ultimately, she had failed, and in this moment, it was all she could think of. And if turians weren't bad enough, a full battalion of batarian and krogan mercenaries had decided to join in the fight for rein over the small human colony in the terminus, eager to take what they could from the grips of Palavan.

The energy expenditure related to fleeing with her new injury was double what would normally have been spent, and the woman was finally forced to stop and rest beside a fire singed tree to catch her breath. She had no idea where she was running to or what she would do once she got there, but survival mode was operating on all cylinders. If she was lucky, she would stumble across a group of Alliance soldiers. Until then, she had a single pistol loaded with her one and only remaining heat sink. Her hand clutched the handle in a nervous death grip, forcing her to point at anything that moved in the darkness around her, illuminated only by the flickering fires of war surrounding the brushy area where she now crouched in hiding.

Her ragged breathing hitched in her throat as a group of four batarians went running past the thin tree trunks only a few feet ahead. She froze where she sat, unsure of the alien's visual acuity in the dark. Her trigger finger trembled on the gun, creating an unpleasant shaking noise on the metal which she worked hard to control. The woman's Alliance issued pilot's uniform lacked the necessary armor for a ground tactics battle, leaving her completely vulnerable.

Taking a few painful steps backward, she made a desperate attempt to escape further into the shroud of night. A twig snapped behind her, but not from beneath her own feet. Before she had the chance to point the gun behind her a large hand was already roughly cupping her mouth, stifling her panicked screams. The cold metal of a gun pressed into the soft flesh beneath her chin and the hot breath of a flanged voice growled into her ear.

"Keep your fucking mouth shut or I'll blow your damn jaw off, human."

_Turian. _

Less problematic than a batarian or krogan, but just bad enough to warrant a cold rush of dread through the pilot's entire body. The hand left her mouth and a large arm crept around her waist, pinning her back into the plating of a chest covered in armor. "Walk", the dark voice demanded, dragging her backward across the mossy ground.

Her injured ankle buckled and rolled beneath her, making it difficult for the turian to move her both quickly and quietly. "Damnit, human! Use your fucking legs!" he barked, still attempting to remain as quiet as possible. The woman groaned an obscene reply between her teeth, earning her a hard jab in the throat with the gun. She gagged and coughed as he continued to drag her along, back into the blackness.

After what felt like miles of painful travel, the turian finally managed to reach his destination. The door to the abandoned freighter hissed open with a smack of his hand on the blue paneling, and he threw her inside after yanking the pistol from her hand. Her relatively small body skidded across the deck. She made a full hearted attempt to crawl back out of the doorway before it closed behind the turian, but he kicked at her, meeting her ribs with a powerful thigh. She groaned and crumbled in pain, screaming when his sharp talons scratched across her scalp, gripping her brown hair and lifting her from the floor. Forcefully, he lead her backward toward the helm of the ship which was approximately the size of a luxury yacht back on Earth. Her hands gripped at his in an attempt to relieve the tension on her aching scalp, but he was much stronger than she was. When they reached the pilot's seat he spun her by the shoulder, still yanking her hair.

"Can you fly it?", he asked gruffly.

"Wh-what?" she asked between pants of breath.

"Can-you-fly-this –ship?", the turian repeated, shaking her head with each word for added emphasis.

She screamed out at the agony in her skull, "YES! Yes I can fly it you fucking asshole, let go of me!"

He released her with a push, causing her to stumble into the chair. Her hand rubbed gently at the sore area on her head as she braced her tired weight against the torn upholstery. Her turian captor was standing by, fidgeting with something out of his pocket which she was vaguely aware of through her peripheral vision.

"But I can't fix it", she explained. "This ship's not going anywhere until the mass effect fields are realigned – HEY!"

A pair of glowing, blue bracelets were linked around her wrists in an instant. "These will shock the every-loving hell out of you if you decide to get too far away from me. Fair warning, _human_."

"You'd be surprised what I can withstand, _turian_."

The heat sinks in her gun were quickly unloaded and hid into a pocket of his armor. "Well, let's put it this way; it's me or them. Take your pick", he said with a toss of his head in the direction of the mercenaries.

"To hell with all of you alien bastards!" she shouted.

The turian's massive body rushed at her, and for a moment she thought he might strike her again. Instead, his hand pressed across her lips again as he pulled her close, crashing her chest into his armored one. "Shhh", he whispered. Their heavy breathing fell into rhythm together as they listened to the batarian conversation being held just outside. The pilot furrowed her dark brows as she studied her captor's alien features with the near black orbs of her eyes.

He was tall, probably at least six and a half feet in height. The chocolate brown plates of his face were covered in the white, tribal markings of his clan from Palaven. That much she had learned about the creatures her people were fighting and dying against to maintain their hold on Earth. His green eyes seemed to glow in the deep, dark pits of his sockets. His exoskeleton mandible twitched and clicked with the emotion that his facial features lacked. They were an interesting species, no doubt about that.

The batarian voices eventually faded, leaving the pair of resentful strangers standing in an awkward embrace. The human woman shoved the turian away hatefully, hardly forcing a stumble out of his massive bulk. His strange mandibles spread into what she could only perceive as a turian smirk and he sauntered toward her with slow confidence, closing the distance between them again.

"I'll make you a deal: I fix the ship, you fly the ship, I don't kill you when we reach Palaven. At worst you'll be a prisoner of war."

She sneered at his arrogance, "I'll be driving the thing, dumbass. What's to keep me from flying you right back to Earth and making you _my_ war prisoner?"

"Knowing that I _will _kill you if you break the deal."

"Then what? You're floating aimlessly through space with zero knowledge of the bike you're riding? I don't think so, bucko."

The two were nearly nose to nose by this point, challenging one another's glare fearlessly. The sudden release of loud, baritone laughter made the woman jump slightly, and he outstretched a three-fingered hand in a gesture of truce. "You got spunk, human. More than I can say for the rest of your pathetic species. Kryik. Deykus Kryik."

The brunette took a long, pensive pause before allowing herself to answer with a hand in return, "Circe."

His hand engulfed her, squeezing just to the point of discomfort, "Humans don't have last names?"

"None _you_ need be privy to."

The relaxed chuckle from within his chest worked only to further aggravate her raw nerves, and she tore her hand from his grip.

"Should take me no more than a couple of hours to get this Alliance piece of shit up and running, then you can get us the hell out of here", he turned to leave, speaking back over his broad shoulder at the glaring woman behind him. "Just keep in mind, you go one inch outside my twenty foot radius and ZAP!" His deep laughter rumbled through the hull, leaving Circe shaken and furious, rubbing her injuries in the dark.

Circe sighed in frustration from her pilot's seat, "Keep pointing that fucking gun at me and I'll crash this thing against the next rock formation."

Deykus was unperturbed, lounging casually in his seat about three feet to her right, gun pointed in the direction of her throbbing skull. He lifted his mandibles into a turian smirk as he watched her, "Just keep your eyes on the skies, _prisoner_."

The human rolled her tired orbs, "I'm exhausted. This thing has a calibrated auto pilot. We're at least sixteen hours from the nearest relay, just let me get some rest."

The turian's brow plates furrowed in thought while his green eyes travel up and down along the length of her body, making her shudder and adjust her weight uncomfortably. She was such a strange creature to him, soft and pale. The strands of her alien hair had been much softer than he expected, and the scent was surprisingly pleasant. For the past few hours he had watched her pilot the ship, tormented and torn between his scolding thoughts and the tension growing behind his groin plates. Part of him knew he could use a break himself.

"Alright, fine. Take three hours, then get your ass back to his helm", he answered, placing the gun in his hip holster and crossing his arms in his chest.

Circe rose with another roll of her eyes. "Asshole", she muttered beneath her breath, not expecting his acute turian hearing to pick up on the sound barely above a whisper.

A foot kicked her hard in the rear as she past, sending her flying into a nearby wall.

"You're a disrespectful little human bitch, you know that?" he barked, rising to his feet to tower above her.

She turned with a scowl, rubbing her sore shoulder, "Maybe I'd be more pleasant if you weren't throwing me around all the fucking time!"

"You're my war prisoner, not my house guest. What do you want from me?"

She tried moving past him, "I don't want anything from you."

Her narrow waist was admittedly appealing, and it curved and swayed as she attempted to maneuver around him. Before he had voluntarily made the decision to do so, his large bulk impeded her path, "Nothing?"

He wasn't sure exactly what the hell he was doing. In fact, he was pretty sure his own neglected hormones were plotting against him. There was no way any fully functioning brain cell in his head would allow him to act on the tingling sensation running beneath his plated limbs. For the last eight months, Deykus' crew had consisted of a small ship full of males. Not a female in sight. Not even a cross-species curious asari dancer on the last shore leave. Call it desperation, but there was something about this woman that shook him to the core, and in this moment, his logical mind was clouded with a million erotic thoughts and wild expectations.

Amidst the scattered array of flowing mental images, he had nearly missed the obvious fact that Circe had not answered his last question with an act of violent retaliation. In turian culture, if the female rejected a male's advances, she'd make it well known. This wasn't a turian, though. He had to keep telling himself that. So, how was he to know if she accepted him? He figured there was only one way to find out.

Placing a long arm into the wall next to where she was pinned he slowly lowered his head, breathing lightly onto her neck. His mandibles fluttered, tickling the skin on her collarbone. His pride swelled, as well as other things, when she didn't shove him away or strike him. Instead, his actions seemed to be causing small bumps to spread along the delicate, pale tissue which smelled so sweet and alluring. His long, blue tongue ventured outward, catching the salty, soft skin gently as he drug the flat of the rough muscle from her shoulder to just behind her ear. She shuddered, maybe even moaned a little, and he felt his lower plates completely shift apart with heated desire.

"War prisoner or sex slave?" he heard her ask finally.

He lifted his head enough that he could see her face, taken slightly aback by her question. "I'm not going to rape you, Circe. You either want this or you don't, but don't make me out to be some sort of savage, disgusting animal. My people are more honorable than yours, remember that."

Her dark eyes studied him intently for a few moments before she responded, "How exactly do turians fuck, anyway? You gonna stick your finger in my ear or something weird like that?"

His armor rattled with his chuckle, "Well, I can put it in your ear if that's what you're into, but it won't be my finger."

Circe couldn't believe what she was actually considering. It may have never even crossed her mind if the topic hadn't been so blatantly presented to her, but now, curiosity was getting the best of her. Besides that, it had actually been quite a few years since her own hormonal stress was satisfactorily lowered to baseline. And if the turian's sheer size and tenacity was any inclination to what he had to offer in bed, well she might just have to betray her own species for just one night.

"Not afraid of dishonoring your people just to fulfill some kinky fantasy about dominating a stinking, filthy human in the sack?" she asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

His expression froze, considering her words. Part of him wanted to tell her that she was neither stinking nor filthy. In fact, the longer he stood this close to her, the more his throbbing cock twitched and begged to be released from its harsh confines. The other part of him was disgusted by the notion of even allowing himself to 'dishonor' his people for no other purpose than to calm his boiling sex drive. Pushing back against the wall with a snarling scoff, Deykus decided to do himself a favor and keep enemy lines solid. He'd rub one out, take a nap, and feel better in a few hours. The turian shook his head in an attempt to lift the sexual haze, turned, and began to walk away to the back of the ship.

Circe was admittedly disappointed, but concurrently relieved by his obvious decision to ignore their growing lust. She watched him stomp away before closing her eyes and resting her head wearily back onto the wall behind her with a long sigh. The quiet hum and vibrations of the ship lulled her into a state of calm. Just as she was about to lift her body from the wall and find a place to sleep, the thudding of quickly approaching footsteps grew louder in her ears. She opened her eyes just in time to see Deykus only a foot from her, reaching his long arms out to grab her by the waist.

"Fuck it, c'mere", he growled between gritted teeth, lifting her up into him.

Her legs swung around and wrapped tightly around his waist as she met the plates of his mouth with her own soft lips. His head jerked back with sudden surprise. The action was unexpected and completely alien to him. He was unsure how to react until she gave him a seductive smile, curling her delicate fingers beneath his fringe to pull him back toward her. Fingertips rubbed across the sensitive bundle of nerves hidden there, causing him to moan loudly and melt back into her strange kiss. Her lips parted on his and he mirrored her motion, greeted by the pleasant taste of her tongue exploring his mouth. Again, he copied her and was satisfied by the heightened excitement such a foreign act could bring.

Deykus held Circe by tightly by her round ass, stumbling backward with her until they crashed into the opposite wall. Moans and deep growls filled the empty air of the ship, accompanied by the sounds of armor pieces being unfastened and clanging to the floor as they were removed. The loudly purring turian shifted his weight on the wall, rolling over to press his strange alien lover up hard against the metal interior. His newly exposed hips ground into her pelvis, giving her the first tactile preview to the incredible organ hiding just behind the black under armor. The sound of ripping material preceded the sensations of six talons pricking into her sensitive flesh. Much to her surprise, however, rather than grimacing in pain, the brunette found herself arching into the sharp sting. Her head lifted, resting back onto the metal siding of the ship. Her soft keen set fire to the turian's growing lust, and he nipped at her delicate collarbone, clicking his mandibles loudly.

"You sound like an insect", she groaned, attempting a shallow insult between her pleasure.

His jaws locked onto her shoulder, making her yelp and hiss. "Slight me all you want, human, but I can smell the sweet arousal in your cunt." His flanging vocals sent shivers down her spine. In fact, everything about him had her writhing and grinding against him in a way she had never known of herself. "Beg me for it."

Her head rose quickly, dark eyes searching his furiously, "What? Get fucked, turian."

Talons gripped her hair, yanking with short tension, "You heard me. Tell me how much you want me to fuck you, because you already know I can do it better than any human male you've ever known. I'll make you cum until you beg me to stop, and even then, I won't cease until you're laying unconscious at my feet. Tell me you want it, beg me for it."

Circe bit her bottom lip, struggling between the Alliance trained pride and the sexually submissive deviant she knew she already was. The very idea of a man treating her in bed the way Deykus was now made her unbelievably wet, though she'd never admit it. She wanted it, wanted him, and he knew it. There was no hiding that look in her eyes.

Unlocking his pelvic pin on her so she could slide down into standing, Deykus shifted his weight to allow room for his long, muscular arm to travel between the two of them. His massive hand dipped quickly into her uniform slacks, making her gasp. He was surprised by the presence of short, silky fur he felt shadowing the center stripe of her sex, and pleasantly impressed by the thick, creamy lubricant already soaking her soft folds. He smiled as her legs parted slightly, welcoming him into her hot center. Taking his sweet time he swirled and slid along the slick warmth, making her moan and buck as he traveled over the strange, hardened nub at her apex. He made sure to concentrate on this area before finally dipping a thick finger into her, sliding in slowly to circle within her depth and drag a long line along her front wall. His finger made one more pass over her sensitive nub just before his hand retreated and he rested nonchalantly against the wall, awaiting her furious reaction. He wasn't left disappointed.

Circe's angry eyes pierced into him as she panted, barely able to hold herself up on her feet. "Why…why did you stop?"

"I thought you wanted me to", he replied with a sly grin. "You never said anything to let me know otherwise."

"You shit head", she groaned, hormones forcing her to resign to what she really wanted. "Quit playing around and fuck me already, will you?"

Before she knew what had happened Circe was thrown onto her back, resting upon one of the supply crates in the middle of the ship. The turian stood over her, growling and yanking at her pants which he removed quickly and threw into the wall along with her boots. The laces had been completely cut and dangled from the scuffed leather. Deykus' loud purrs echoed through the hull as he removed the rest of his armor, staring his prize down with a predatory glare that sent goosebumps across her exposed flesh. The final clink of armor hit the ground and she sat up momentarily to pull her shirt and bra over her head. A large hand pressed roughly against her chest, forcing her back onto the cold metal of the crate beneath her. His hands found leverage on her thighs, pulling her ass slightly over the edge toward him. She draped her legs over his shoulders, resting them onto his hard carapace with a deep sigh.

"One more time", he whispered.

She rolled her eyes as his talons dug into her with anticipation, "Please, fuck me turian."

Her halfhearted plea was met with the shocking plunge of his thick shaft deep inside her. The pair cried out, throwing their heads back with erotic bliss. Circe couldn't believe the billions of incredible, new sensations trembling through entire body. She shuddered as his hard length began a harsh rhythm, pounding into her while delicious ridges and bumps massaged her G-spot.

The strong turian moaned his pleasure and snatched her knees from his shoulders, pushing them wide apart and back, holding her firmly in place so he could get a clear visual of his hard, blue cock sliding in and out of her small, pink core. The way her muscles tightened, pulse, and fluttered around him so tightly sent his every sense into overdrive. She was so hot and smooth, yet she gripped him like she would never let go. His thickness stretched her to the point that he silently feared he may be hurting her, but her passionate moans and keens encouraged him to continue on, faster and harder, pulsing and pumping. He could feel his first orgasm drawing dangerously closer with each passing second, and the view from above served only to drive him further over the edge into sheer ecstasy.

Remembering the sensitive bud at her apex, Deykus laid his hand over her mound and swiveled his large thumb over the hardened, raised flesh. Almost instantly Circe bucked her hips, released a desperate cry, and tightened a death grip onto his throbbing cock with her deep muscles. The very strength of it, in combination with the incredible milking sensation it performed on him, sent the turian tumbling over the edge with a deafening, alien screech.

The orgasm shredded through them, deeper and more intense than either one had ever experienced. Circe reached overhead, gripping onto the crate beneath her for stability, anything to ground her to reality and prevent her from passing out. The climax was prolonged, heightened to the point that she felt it would never stop, but it soon began to retreat. As it did, she became vaguely aware of the hard weight being laid across her chest and abdomen. Her eyes parted lazily as she panted in recovery, giving her a view of the spent turian resting over her, fringed head lying onto her bosom. His hot breath beat onto her, and his subvocals hummed delightful vibrations through her skin.

"Spirits", he groaned, "I changed my mind."

"Hmm?"

"Fuck war prisoner. Sex slave is a much better plan." She chuckled heavily, smacking him in the plated shoulder. He sat up suddenly, pulling her up toward him. His tongue sought hers out, rolling within her mouth to coax it out into the open where they tangled wet, alien muscles together though heavy breathing. He parted from her long enough to demand, "Go recalibrate that autopilot to take a longer route, then get your sexy ass back over here so I can fuck you again…" his raspy tongue met her again before sliding to her neck, "…and again…", down onto her collarbone, "…and again…", over a taunt nipple, "…and again…"

Circe smiled and moaned at the sensation of his traveling tongue, glad to take orders from her new captor, secretly relishing in his dominant nature.


	2. Morality Clause

**Pronouciation Key: Deykus (Day-Cuss), Circe (Sir-See), Tecca (Tek – Kah)**

Deykus sighed with frustration and checked the digital clock on his omni tool for the thousandth time. He couldn't help but wonder to himself at what point he had gone so soft. If anything the military should have hardened him, so why did he have such a difficult time verbalizing the word 'no'?

"Admiral Kryik, sir?" he turned to address the asari shop owner with a forced smile. "We've downloaded your credits to the shop and had your things delivered to your ship. Is there anything else we can do for you?"

Her small, blue, humanoid hand returned his credit chit and he took it slowly, fighting his mind's urge to remember the soft touch of five human fingers beneath his fringe. "They aren't _my_ things", he muttered with agitation, "but thank you. That will be all."

The young woman nodded respectfully and returned to her shop across the waters of the Presidium. Deykus grumbled at the thought of nearly three thousand credits draining from his account, though he was certain it wouldn't be the last. The back of his regal tunic rubbed against the pebbly concrete of the wall behind him as he made a tired attempt to scratch his carapace through the fabric, closing his eyes to seek a moment's peace through his many irritated thoughts.

"Admiral. Well I never would have believed it if I hadn't heard it myself."

The familiar female voice shot ice through the turian's chest, hitting him dead center and freezing his every muscle as the rush of adrenaline filled his senses. His green eyes opened to find the mirage of a ghost he had once known, now five years older, and just as irresistibly beautiful.

"Circe…" The shock in his voice made her grin.

"You leaped from the ship so fast, I didn't have time to give you my number", she quipped. Her arms crossed nonchalantly in her chest while she sunk into a hip, black eyes sparkling.

Deykus had spent nearly every moment since that day thinking about those eyes. It almost felt like a cruel dream to being seeing them again.

_The human pilot was pulling into Palaven's orbit. Her hair smelled even sweeter now, still tinged with a hint of her own unique scent which mingled perfectly with his, and all of it pleasantly masked with the erotic reminder of their three days of non-stop sexual bliss. Unfortunately, there were only so many different routes you could take to a relay before gas began running low. Food was no issue for her, the ship having been an Alliance supply freighter, but there was nothing to suit the turian's dextro-based body, and he had run out of previsions. It was time to land._

_None of it had been like he had expected. The sex, the company, the way she lit his skin on fire when she touched him, the way the weight of her head laying on his chest grounded him between the moments of writhing, thrusting, and screaming. And now it was over. They would take her away, interrogate her, beat her, and kill her. This was war._

_A remote area of clear land came into view below. Deykus took a few deep breaths against the tightness in his chest, but it didn't slow the ships decent. His eyes traveled to the woman sitting at the helm. So strange and alien, yet completely irresistible. In a moment of thoughtless panic, the turian growled and stomped his foot loudly against the metal flooring._

_"Fuck! Pull up!", he yelled before making a mad dash for the back of the ship._

_"What?" Circe called over her shoulder._

_Deykus returned, strapping an Alliance flight pack awkwardly to his carapace, "Pull up, damnit!"_

_"What the fuck are you doing? You can't operate that thing!"_

_"Goddamnit human, do as I say."_

_He checked to ensure that the airlock was pressurized to the Palavan atmosphere before smacking his hand against the paneling to open the cabin-side door. The pilot leaped to her feet, pulling at his arm. He yanked it free with another growl and attempted to step into the airlock._

_"Deykus, you'll be killed!" she screamed, sincere panic in her voice. It nearly killed him to hear it. He turned quickly on his heels, grabbed her tight by the shoulders, and pulled her into a crushing human kiss. It was something he had grown to enjoy quite a lot in three days. Her hands pressed into his chest, shoving him away angrily. "Asshole! Don't do this, please!"_

_"Pull the ship up, get out of here before they catch you on their monitors. GO!"_

_Before she could argue another moment he turned and was gone, crashing through Palaven's atmosphere with a human jet pack sparking frantically upon his back._

"Hello?" The human woman was scanning his face with questioning eyes.

Deykus shook his head, blinking himself back into the moment, "Circe, I…ah, how are you?"

"Alive. Thanks to you." Her voice was quieted, gentle. It sung sweet melodies in his ears.

"What are you doing here?"

"I work here", she answered, using her chin to signal over her shoulder. "Veteran's Affairs office for the Citadel."

He smirked, "Had enough fighting, have you?"

She nodded with a sigh, "Retired. I've seen enough death for this lifetime."

A pause passed between them as they smiled at one another, exchanging a million words without a single sound.

Deykus stepped forward, closing the distance between them, "It's good to see you, Circe."

The woman opened her mouth to respond, but her words were cut sharp by the harsh call from behind his shoulder, "Deykus! There you are. The shop owner is waiting for your credit chit at the counter and…" The turian female's voice traveled off as she approached, eyeing the human woman in front of her. "Who are _you_?" she asked shortly.

Circe took a step back, eyes scanning the pair for a moment before she straightened her spine with a courteous smile, "Veteran's Affairs, ma'am. Just checking in to make sure you and the Admiral are enjoying your visit to the Citadel comfortably."

The female placed a taloned hand over Deykus' arm, "We're fine. Come along, _sweetheart._"

Her harsh tones were as daggered and threatening as her blue eyes. Deykus didn't move an inch, only watched in silent despair as the human woman nodded politely before turning on her heels, retreating again from his life.

It had been a long and trying day. Circe's apartment was cool and quiet, just how she liked it. She kicked off her boots and rubbed at her swollen feet once she took a seat on the couch in her small living area. The emotion from her encounter with Deykus and his territorial female was still tight in her throat. Seeing him alive and well made her happy, she only wished it could have been under different circumstances.

Brushing the thought aside, she decided to treat the emotional battlefield within her mind to a good night's rest and do with the memory what she had with every other; ignore it. A knock at her door interrupted the soft, barefooted path toward her dark room, and she paused to stare blankly back at the door for a moment. Another knock echoed impatiently, almost aware that she stood only feet away. The security paneling to the left of the door revealed the familiar face of a nervous-looking turian waiting just outside. She approached apprehensively, unsure whether she was overjoyed or overcome with dread. Her finger hovered shakily above the door button for an eternity before she finally pressed it.

The metal slid aside with a quiet hiss.

He looked at her and sighed, "What am I doing here?"

She shook her head shallowly, "How did you find me?"

"It's amazing what information a well respected turian admiral can acquire. Besides, you didn't exactly make it hard. There's only one Circe working for Citadel VA systems." He stepped forward with a questioning pause, requesting admittance with his nervous expression. The woman slid aside, allowing him entrance and closing the door quickly behind him. "Shepard, huh? Seems common enough. I don't understand your rationale for such secrecy so many years ago."

Circe shrugged with a grin, "I hated you."

The finely dressed turian turned to face her, green eyes searching almost desperately, "In a past tense?"

The rapid heaving of her breasts over her erratic breathing could not be hidden. She was overwhelmed with a million tingling sensations coursing through her, over her, around her. Her head nodded slowly as he moved closer, blanketing her with the radiating heat that was exuding from his strong body. A hand rose to her face, gently palming her cheek and running a thumb along her soft bottom lip.

"Spirits, how I've missed you", he purred, that familiar rumbling beginning deep within his chest.

It took a great deal of self control to prevent her brown eyes from rolling in their sockets. His Earthy, sandalwood scent filled her senses. She had always found it curious that a creature so vastly different from her own species could make her feel so close to home. Her long lashes flicked up as her eyes pleaded at his.

"Deykus…I have to tell you something", she whispered.

His tattooed face nuzzled gently into her soft neck, and his mandibles flicked feathered kisses along her jaw and collarbone as he inhaled her deeply. Circe moaned, earning an eager growl from within his large chest. Desperate, yet weak with lust, she pressed her hands against him and attempted to pull away from the intoxicating aroma and deliciously painful scratch of his talons on her skin.

"Dey..Deykus, w-wait…"

His hands gripped insistently at her bare flesh, biting, clawing. His sharp teeth hung precariously over the delicate skin of her neck, wanting desperately to bite down, mark her, claim her. Instead he painstakingly exchanged the teeth for a long, blue tongue and proceeded to lick every inch of her salty flavor. It was so unique, so unmistakably hers. Her silky, brown hair had grown down the full length of her back, and it swayed, tickling against his rough skin as her head rested back, welcoming him to her. The submissive gesture was almost too much for him to resist.

But he had to.

It would be impossible to take a human mate. Forbidden. They would be ostracized by every race in the known galaxy, and that was the least of it. But rationalizing things didn't make it any easier. His primitive instincts were beckoning, torturing him.

_Take her. Claim her. Dominate her. Ruin her for any other male… _

_Impregnate her._

The urge surprised even him, and for a moment he was able to escape the shackles of his growing lust to stumble back and gaze at her small, beautiful form. The notion was ridiculous, he knew that, and suddenly a part of him was greatly saddened. As much as he worshiped this woman, he would never be able to bear an offspring with her. He could think of no one else he would rather have carry his child. Not even –

"Deykus?", her voice was shaky, but such a wonderfully hypnotizing melody. "Are you alright?"

Pulled from his trance, the pain in his entrapped groin brought the rush of excitement back to him at full force. He dove at her, pressing his lip plates against her mouth and searching to find her luscious tongue with his, the alien kiss he had thought of every day for five years. She matched his enthusiasm, moaning and keening passionately as her soft hands fumbled to split the fabric of his tunic. They stumbled across her small living room, bumping loudly into objects as they went. An asari lamp was knocked to the carpet floor, flickering out and dimming the room. The glow from the artificial lighting outside bled through the windows enough to illuminate their path to the bedroom, but before they could make it there, Circe tripped on her turian lover's foot and fell swiftly backward. He caught her with lightning fast hands, but rather than helping her return to her feet, he laid her down gently onto the soft floor. His large hands gripped at her shirt, tearing it open with an impatient growl. She yelped, breathing loudly with arousal.

One three-taloned hand gripped delicately at her breast as he roamed his long, raspy tongue over the sensitive flesh of the other. She arched into the sensation with a deep sigh, sliding her fingers beneath his fringe. His moan vibrated through her entire body, and his hand left her mound to latch tightly onto the elastic of her pants. When his tongue reached her stomach, he felt her breath hitch. She held it quietly, all movements and sounds coming to a halt.

The pants slid slowly down her thighs and the sweetness of her arousal filled Deykus' senses, igniting his primal drive. His instincts wanted to fuck her senseless. Drive into her and make her scream until C-Sec came to investigate the reported ongoing murder at her apartment complex. But his heart. His heart wanted to draw out her pleasure, make love to her for the entire night, then hold her tight in his arms and never let go again. Not again. He had found his true mate all those years ago. He had risked his life to spare hers. He had thought he would live out the rest of his lonely days only dreaming of her memory. And now here she was, moaning so sweetly, her hips writhing and bucking with every long draw of his tongue over her delicious folds. Her creamy wetness coating his mouth plates, leaving her scent on his unprotected skin.

Tecca would surely smell her on him. That much was certain, but he didn't care. He needed this, like air and nourishment he needed this. It revived him from the death-like haze he had lived in for five years. Made him feel alive, renewed, young again. And when her orgasm shook beneath him and he felt the tight walls of her velvety core pulse around his finger, his mind lost all touch with reality.

The next thing he was aware of was the slick warmth of that tight canal sheathing him so completely. It was even better than he remembered, than he had fantasized about. He wanted to stay that way with her forever, never withdraw, never even climax. Just exist within her as one.

Circe had barely had a chance to recover from the sheer intensity of her orgasm before Deykus was buried to the hilt within her. So deep. So full. No man could ever make her feel as complete as this turian alien did. She was a traitor to her species. A living blasphemy before her creator and all that was holy.

And she never wanted it to end.

The carpet burned the skin of her backside as he slammed into her, every heated thrust sending an electrical surge through her that tingled and vibrated her to the center of her very existence. Like their first time, she was shocked to realize the unbelievable effect he had on her. Her heavy lids parted to look up at him in the dim light of the room. His greens eyes seemed to glow with intensity, staring straight into her soul as he plunged in over and over. His plates aggravated the skin on her inner thighs, chaffing her, stinging, burning. The talons on her scalp drug and scraped. Every inch of his plated torso dug into her, marking her, branding her flesh like fire.

And she never wanted it to end.

But it was going to. The tension was building quickly, powerfully, and she had no control over it. The intensity of it worried her. She thought she might surely faint with the release. Dark circles played at the corners of her vision. Deykus was close as well. His breathing was erratic, his arms shook, his mandibles flicked, and the fierce gaze he held on her finally tore away as his eyes rolled back into their sockets with a deafening, turian howl. The scream that escaped Circe was equally as shattering. They rode out their pleasure with a harmonic song that hummed through the walls, echoing into the spaces of every room for a quarter mile until the calm serene of relaxing bliss overtook them.

They lay panting on the floor, catching their breath and what was left of their senses. The heat radiating from Deykus' poreless body singed the human's skin, adding to the fury of the many angry, reddened areas.

He remained inside of her for as long as his body would allow, before his erection softened and the organ retreated into the sheath between his groin plates. How he wished he could stay there inside her forever. With a weary groan, he lifted himself off of her soft comfort and rolled onto his back. His arms searched out for her, pulling her close to him. Her head rested lazily onto his chest plates, blissfully content upon the harshness of his natural angles and curves. Silence filled the room for a few moments before either of them finally spoke.

"I'm mated to that female you met today", he confessed.

Her fingertips caressed the calluses on his hands, "I know."

The guilt stabbed at him. Not for Tecca, he had admittedly never cared for the wretched, spoiled, useless female he had finally bonded with out of political obligation. He ached for the woman in his arms. His _true_ mate. The one he had betrayed when he had given up hope in ever finding her again.

"I'm pregnant", she uttered, freezing the blood in his veins.

It hurt beyond imagining that it could not possibly be his. His hand gripped hers affectionately, "You have a mate, too?"

She paused, "He left. Never wanted children. We were never married. That's like bonding for humans."

"I see. So you'll raise the baby on your own?"

"Do I have a choice?"

It may have been the spark of post-coitus insanity that was still flowing through him, but Deykus was suddenly overwhelmed with the hope of possibility. He shifted his weight so that he rested above her, looking down into her eyes once again, "Let's raise him together."

"What?"

"I don't care that he'll be human. I'll raise and adore him like he's my own, I swear." His hand cupped her face, "I'd never leave you, Circe Shepard. Never."

Her solemn grin was a false, momentary reassurance before she responded, "Deykus…it's impossible."

"Tecca can have it all, I'll leave her everything. The spoiled brat can take it, I only want you."

Tears threatened her eyes, "I can't let you do that. Deykus, think of what we're doing. What society would do if they only knew."

"Aw, fuck society!"

"Our child would be an outcast!" The truth struck like a dagger in his heart. "No one in this entire galaxy would ever respect him, love him. Neither species would ever accept him. He would be neither human nor turian. People would hate him, maybe even try to harm him for who he is. For belonging to us."

A tightness gripped at Deykus' throat. After a long pause, he nodded shallowly in understanding and dipped his head to touch his brow to hers. The pain was unbearable. His hand slid up her body to rest upon her stomach, caressing the inflamed skin gently with his thumb, silently communicating his affection for the growing child within.

Slowly, a small smile spread along his mandibles, "You know…it's almost expected in turian society that a political figure will take a mistress."

Her laugh shook through him, widening his smile. His long thigh pushed hers apart as he shifted onto her, licking at her neck.

"You really want to be inside of me again, knowing that I am carrying some human man's bastard child?"

His groin plates widened, pushing out his newly erect cock as he nuzzled at her neck and breathed in her scent, memorizing her forever.

"I want to come inside of you all night, and pretend in the morning that he's mine."


	3. The Admiral's Mistress

Circe answered the knock at her door with a disapproving shake of her head.

"Look at you", Deykus said, taking in the sight of her pregnant belly. "You're beautiful."

She stepped aside with a roll of her eyes, "You can't keep making these _business_ trips out here like this, Dey. Tecca will catch on sooner or later."

He shrugged as he stepped inside, "She already knows I have a mistress. Besides, I'm pretty sure she's fucking the bodyguard."

"But she doesn't know I'm human. We have to be careful!"

His long arms wrapped around her waist, bringing her as close as her belly would allow, "I know, I know. I'll be more careful, promise." Reaching into his tunic, he pulled out a box of very fine, expensive levo-based chocolates.

"Uh huh. Careful?"

"I had Sargo pick them up."

She groaned, "It still makes me nervous that he knows about us."

Deykus chuckled as he took a comfortable seat on the couch, grabbing the remote to flip through vids on the console, "He's my best friend, dearest. He'd never betray us."

The woman sighed again as she unveiled the bite-sized prizes within the golden box, "I sure hope not."

A twinkling flash of her diamond bracelet caught his eye and he laughed heartily, "You little hypocrite. Did you wear that to work today?"

She stopped chewing the chocolate in her mouth suddenly and glanced innocently down at her jewelry. "No! I only wear it aroun' da how-shh", she muffled through her teeth.

He laughed again and beckoned her to have a seat next to him, "Come relax with me for a while. I'll set up the crib once I've had a cool down."

She joined him on the furniture, lowering herself awkwardly backward onto the cushions. The guilt related to his expense account on her had been plaguing Circe for some time now, "You don't have to keep buying me all this baby stuff, Dey. I appreciate it, but it's not your responsibility."

He looked disheartenly at her, "I know, I want to do it."

"But I don't want you to feel obligated."

His face relaxed into an affectionate grin as he brought the back of her hand to his mouth, nipping her lightly with his teeth, "Circe, you're the only thing I _don't_ feel obligated to. For once in my life, I'm able to do things because I want to, not because they're expected of me. Please don't ask me to give that up." She sighed with a gentle smile, accepting defeat and snuggling comfortably into his side. "Besides, it's already bad enough that I can't take you out to nice places or be seen with you in public. Every moment we share together is confined within these walls." He looked around them pensively for a moment before adding, "Remind me to buy you a better place before the baby comes."

She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped as she remembered something. Struggling at the edge of the couch, she finally got to her feet and shuffled into the bedroom, returning with a small photograph.

She handed it over to him with a smile, "Read the top right corner."

His eyes scanned the paper, resting onto the printed human words. His vocabulary was limited, but he knew enough to make out the word, 'Girl'.

He looked up at her with a smile, pressing his hand to her belly, "Circe, a little girl. I'm so happy for you." She joined him again on the couch, and he kissed her, "What will you name her?"

The woman could hardly conceal the keen smile she carried, "Do you remember when I told you that your mother's name was actually a human name as well?"

He nodded, "Jane?"

She kissed his mandible gently before answering, "Jane. Jane Shepard."

His chest was swelling with obvious pride, "That would be such an honor, Circe. She was a wonder lady."

"Well, she did a damn good job on you, I'll give her that."

He chuckled and laid a turian kiss to her brow with his.

* * *

**There will probably be quite a few short ones like this, since they only see one another every few months. Let me know if you have any ideas for one of their "meetings". Thanks!**


	4. Jane

She was so tiny, so soft, so vulnerable and delicate. It aggravated his protective instincts to look down at her, watching her sleep soundly in her mother's arms. It angered him that he would have to leave tomorrow. They needed him here.

"Do you want to hold her?" Circe asked him finally, snapping him back from his trance.

He shook his head vigorously, backing away slowly, "I'm much too…I'd harm her."

"You could never harm her, Dey", she cooed with a sleepy smile. "Here, have a seat, I'll hand her to you."

"I don't know…maybe I should pad my arms with something or…"

"She's wrapped in blankets, she'll be fine. Come on."

He lowered slowly onto the couch, handling the tiny body with awkward care like a precious package as her mother handed her to him. The woman's eyes were bloodshot and ringed with dark circles. He'd never tell her, but she looked terrible.

"Are ah…are you alright?" he asked carefully.

Circe rubbed her eyes with a yawn, "Still trying to catch up on sleep. Baby Jane still wakes up about every two hours or so. She's a vocal one, she is."

"Two hours? Is that normal?"

"For humans it is. I don't know about turian babies."

He chuckled and shrugged, "I wouldn't know."

The tiny body wriggled in his arms, making him freeze on the spot, holding his breath. The infant stretched and fussed slightly before opening her lids to peer up at him with huge, brown eyes. He worried for a moment that his harsh features might frighten her, he was vastly different from her mother. The baby studied him for a moment, yawned wide, and fell lazily back into dreams.

He released the breath he had been holding, making Circe laugh quietly, "She likes you."

"Heh. How do you figure?"

"She trusts you enough to sleep in your arms. When she woke up in my mother's arms, she started crying."

The thought made him happy. It was a complicated relationship he would share with this small human life, but he wanted it to be a good one. A close one. He'd give anything to ensure it.

"Will you have children?"

The question hurt to hear coming from her. It reminded him of the truth of their secret relationship. Jane wasn't his, she never would be, and he would never bear a child with Circe.

"Yes" , he answered solemnly. "But only because it's expected."

His eyes rose to her gentle smile, easing his raw nerves. Obligation and civil duty would tear him away for at least another six months, and this visit had already been a rather short one. He hated it, counting every second until he could see her again. And now there was Jane. There was no denying he was completely wrapped around her tiny, soft finger. Circe's reddened eyes were heavy. She was slowly losing the battle against sleep.

He smiled at her and gestured to the door of her bedroom with a nod of his head, "Go get some sleep. Jane and I will hang out here and watch some vids."

She blinked at him, "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely! If she sleeps like you say she does, she should be good for at least another hour and half. Go, we'll be fine."

She stood slowly, humming with a long stretch of her arms, "You should be careful, I could get use to having you around."

She laid a soft kiss to his mandible before disappearing into the dark room. His eyes lowered back onto the sleeping bundle of joy resting comfortably in his strong arms.

"Don't tempt me", he whispered.


End file.
